


Guardian Angel

by Nicky_Gabriel



Category: Riptide (TV), Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-01
Updated: 2011-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-17 10:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicky_Gabriel/pseuds/Nicky_Gabriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were connected beyond space and time and it didn’t take much to comfort them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guardian Angel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinx_r](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinx_r/gifts).



****

Don't give up, be strong.  
The Storm, Doves

The man was sitting motionless in the plastic chair and at first Starsky didn’t pay any attention to him. Starsky was pacing the corridor, thinking about the last time he visited a hospital, and he didn’t like the direction his mind chose. He hated hospitals, even though hospitals had saved Hutch’s life so many times. He didn’t like to think how many times his own life had been saved in places like this one. Huggy used to call this pacing ‘doing rounds’ as the doctors did every day. This hospital was not in Bay City, though. It was in King Harbor and Starsky didn’t like it nonetheless.

The man in the chair was angry. No, that was not the correct word. He was pissed off. And scared. These two emotions were clearly visible on the tired, young face. He looked up every time a doctor came through the door to say a word or two to the people gathered in the waiting room about their relatives, but the doctors never approached him.

Starsky took a better look at him and noticed his clenched hands – with blood stains on his fingers – his rumpled clothes, and wet jeans and shoes. He looked terrible and Starsky drew the conclusion that the young man had been sitting there far longer than him. So next time Starsky visited the cafeteria, he brought a cup of coffee for him. Of course he made the cup as Hutch liked – out of habit – and just hoped that the other man would like it without sugar and with no cream as well.

The man looked up, surprised, as if he didn’t expect any politeness in a place like this.

“Makes the waiting easier,” Starsky said, shrugging.

“Hardly.” The man accepted the cup and took a sip. He didn’t wince, so Starsky assumed it was how he liked it.

“Starsky,” Starsky said, sitting next to him in the uncomfortable plastic chair.

“Nick. Nick Ryder.” Ryder rubbed his temple and leaned against the chair, looking tiredly at the ceiling.

Starsky watched him more closely. Ryder was about ten years younger than him, tall and dark haired. His dark blue eyes were filled with pain and annoyance and helplessness. And his hands were shaking so that he had to hold the Styrofoam cup with both hands.

“I see you have been waiting here for hours already,” Starsky stated, knowing from experience that sometimes conversations with complete strangers were the only distractions that kept him from going crazy.

“They won’t tell me about Cody anyway,” Ryder said and hit the chair with his fist.

Starsky looked at him with more interest. He’d been there and he knew how discouraging it could be. Sometimes he just wanted to strangle the doctors who refused to tell him about Hutch, because he wasn’t the immediate family. If they only knew about family...

“Who are you waiting for the news about?” Starsky asked, because maybe this time he _could_ help him. “I was just at the ICU. Maybe I saw them?”

Ryder looked at him quickly. “How did you do that?”

“I’m a cop.” Starsky smiled, but he understood some people didn’t believe him because of his street clothes so he showed his badge.

Ryder winced and Starsky decided that his experience with cops most probably wasn’t very encouraging.

“You’re not from King Harbor,” Ryder said looking at him cautiously.

“Nope, I’m from Bay City,” Starsky explained. “My partner Hutch and me are taking part in training in the city. Or actually we were, because I don’t think he will be up to the task now.”

“Something serious?”

“Appendicitis.”

“I see.” Ryder nodded and got up to throw away the now-empty cup. When he sat down again, he said, “Cody, he’s my partner.” He smiled at the same expression Starsky used. “We are private detectives.” He paused and this time Starsky winced. Detectives and cops usually didn’t like each other. “Cody... saved my life,” Ryder continued. “We were at the harbor and we were attacked. I didn’t notice there were two of them, Cody did. That’s why he... ended up in the ocean. He got hit on his head and was unconscious. I didn’t get to him in time,” Ryder hid his face in his hands. “If he doesn’t make it...”

“Hey, tell me what else you could have done?” Starsky asked firmly. He didn’t have to be a detective to know how much this Cody meant for Ryder.

How many times had his friends asked him the same question? Huggy and Dobey knew him well enough to know that every time Hutch was in the hospital Starsky was blaming himself for being the reason he was there in the first place. Even now...

Starsky smiled sadly. It was the only way for him – when he couldn’t protect his best friend from what fate planned for them, he felt useless and helpless and annoyed with himself.

Ryder leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and stared at his palms, at the spots of dry blood.

“Is your Cody red-haired?” Starsky asked, trying to take Ryder’s mind off the gloomy thoughts.

“No, he’s blond. As light as...” Ryder smiled. “And he has a mustache.”

Starsky frowned, because his new acquaintance was describing Hutch. He looked at his watch.

“Hutch’s doctor lets me visit him at the ICU for ten minutes every hour. I can check out how your friend is doing. There was a man who looked like that when I was there last time.”

“Why are you doing this?” Ryder asked surprised. “You don’t even know me.”

“Good partners are hard to come by.” Starsky shrugged. At least that much he could do for him. “And Cody knows you after all and he saved your life.”

Ryder smiled softly and his eyes shone.

“Cody would save even the worst creep,” he whispered.

Starsky got up and squeezed his shoulder briefly. “Just hang on.”

But they both knew that was the hardest.

*

Hutch still was unconscious, so Starsky just sat next to him on the narrow bed and took his hand, squeezing it gently. He needed to feel the warmth of the skin and the steady pulse under his fingers.

“Hi, buddy,” he whispered. He knew Hutch wouldn’t hear him, but it didn’t matter. They were connected beyond space and time and it didn’t take much to comfort them.

Then he realized that Ryder wasn’t even allowed to know if his friend was okay and it made him angry. Of course he knew the hospital rules were to protect the privacy of the patient, but this law usually just made it hard for other people who cared for them.

“I’ll be right back, babe,” Starsky said, got up and went to the other bed where he suspected he would find Ryder’s friend. And he was right – the name on the card was Cody Allen.

Starsky had spent enough time in hospitals to know from the chart and the monitors that his condition was serious if not critical. For Starsky all the machines were not scary, as they were for Hutch. He didn’t remember much from the time he spent at the ICU after the shooting few years ago, but for Hutch it was a nightmare. Now the machines told him that Allen couldn’t even breathe on his own.

Starsky approached the bed and shivered. Allen really did look like Hutch a few years ago. Light hair and neatly trimmed mustache made him look angelic and peaceful, and Starsky would bet his eyes were blue as well. When he ended his inspection – remembering the numbers from the chart and the monitors – Starsky sat next to Hutch again and took his palm into his hand.

“Hutch, I never realized you were even less interested in the courses than I am, but don’t you think that ending up in the hospital to avoid it is a little exaggerated?” Starsky said warmly, staring at their entwined fingers. “You didn’t have to go that far, but I have to admit, you are very creative. Ten points for style, but zero for ruining my health.”

“You could finally learn how to say ‘I love you’.” He heard the soft and quiet answer.

Starsky looked up at Hutch’s face and grinned. Hutch was pale and tired looking but he was lucid and slightly amused.

“So, sleeping beauty decided to join us.” Starsky squeezed his hand tightly and Hutch reciprocated as much as he could.

“How do I look?” Hutch asked.

“Well, you wouldn’t make it on the GQ cover, but...” Starsky hesitated. “I love you anyway.”

Hutch swallowed hard and held his hand tighter, but didn’t say anything. For a long moment they just looked at each other in silence.

“Desk duty?” asked Hutch finally.

“At least a month,” Starsky said, but he was still smiling.

“How are you going to endure it?” Hutch tilted his head slightly.

“For you?” Starsky reached up and swept some of the blond hair off Hutch’s forehead. “I can endure everything.”

“I said you should not disturb the patient.” They heard a female voice coming from the door. Starsky already recognized it, because she was the one who were taking care of the night shift in Hutch’s room.

He didn’t move, but said, “Hutch’s awake.”

The nurse approached the bed and examined her patient as was her duty every hour. She checked on his pulse, blood pressure and temperature, asking a few questions meanwhile. She let Starsky stay and for that he was grateful.

“What’s wrong with him?” Starsky gestured toward Allen’s bed with his chin.

The nurse looked at him suspiciously, but when she finished with Hutch – who had fallen asleep again already – she went to the other bed and checked upon her other patient. When she finished writing the results on the chart, she answered.

“Mr. Allen almost drowned. That’s why we’re keeping him on the ventilator. He still can’t breathe on his own.”

Starsky smiled his ‘thank you’ and checked his watch. His ten minutes were over and he knew better than to push it. He wanted to be back after all. For the last time he squeezed Hutch’s hand and got up.

“Will he make it?” he asked stopping for a moment at the other bed.

The nurse finished changing the dressing on Allen’s forehead.

“The next few hours will be crucial. He was too long under the water to even know if he will wake up.”

“Thank you, Ms,” Starsky read the name on the name tag on her chest, “Ms Chantal.”

“Mrs.,” she corrected him with a smile. “See you in an hour, detective.”

“In about fifty minutes, sweetheart.” He leant and kissed her lightly on her cheek.

She smiled at him indulgently.

“I won’t be here,” she said, looking at him knowingly. “I will have a break when you are back.”

Starsky grinned.

“You are an angel, Mrs. Chantal!” he stated cheerfully.

He knew that in about fifty minutes Ryder would have his ten minutes with his partner.


End file.
